Walter Harland eBook

Charley’s countenance, and the angry flash which
shot from his eyes. Rising to his feet, he said
in a voice of deep displeasure: “Since you
are so fond of a new friend, I suppose you no longer
consider an old one worth retaining, so I will trouble
you no longer.” I attempted to reason with
him, saying I could not see why a new friendship should
alienate us who had been friends from our childhood;
but by this time he had worked himself into a fearful
passion and made use of very violent language.
I had learned long ago that when his anger was excited,
he was not master of either his words or actions.
I stepped forward, and laying my hand upon his shoulder
tried to recall him to himself, but he threw off my
hand as if my touch had been contamination, and without
another word walked from the room. As I looked
after his retreating form as he walked hastily down
the street I could not help a feeling of pity for him,
that he should suffer himself to be governed by such
an unhappy temper, for I knew that when his anger
became cooled he would bitterly repent of his conduct.
To the reader who has never met with one possessing
the unhappy disposition of Charley Gray, his character
in these pages will seem absurd and overdrawn; but
those who have come in close contact with a like nature
will only see in this sketch a correct delineation
of one of the most unhappy dispositions which affect
mankind. Charley was endowed with rare gifts
of mind and intellect, and was manly and sensible,
and setting aside this one fault it was hard to find
a more agreeable and pleasant companion. His
absurd conduct was often a matter of after-wonder
to himself, and he made frequent resolutions of amendment,
which only held good till some cause roused his old
enemy. I suppose no more proper name could be
found for this unhappy disposition than exclusiveness,
for what ever or whoever he liked, he wanted all to
himself. He was respectful and courteous to all,
but intimate only with a very few, and for those few
his affection went beyond the bounds of reason, inasmuch
as it was a source of unhappiness to himself and all
connected with him.

I cherished no resentment toward Charley, knowing
him as I did, but I knew the folly of trying to reason
with him in the state of mind in which he left me.
It must have been a hard struggle with his pride, for
Charley was very proud, but his good sense prevailed,
and he came to seek me. “You are freely
and fully forgiven,” said I, in reply to his
humble acknowledgment of wrong-doing; “but do
Charley for your own sake as well as that of others
try and subdue a disposition which if not conquered,
will render you unhappy for life. If I am your
friend does it follow that I must have no other, and
the making of other friends will never diminish my
regard for you, the earliest and best friend I have
ever known.” “I am sensible,”
replied he, “of all and more than you can tell
me of the unreasonableness and absurdity of my own